


Reliability

by DoofBoxPrince



Category: Tomb Raider & Related Fandoms, Tomb Raider (Video Games)
Genre: F/F, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-05
Updated: 2019-06-05
Packaged: 2020-04-07 21:07:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19093147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoofBoxPrince/pseuds/DoofBoxPrince
Summary: You haven't known her long but she's made herself comfortable around you, maybe even too comfortable. But it's hard to mind. She's bright and bold and passionate and patient and unlike anyone you've ever met before. She grows on you so fast that you barely know how it happens.





	Reliability

**Author's Note:**

> This is a bit of an older fic, written when I was actually more familiar with the characters and the story. So if there are big differences in quality or style...haha that's why. Not to mention, I've always had a very 'throw away the canon' approach to writing and I don't know what happens after the 2013 game, so there's many things that probably don't align with canon events. Oops.

It was a little jarring the first few times she had yelled, ‘Lara!’ from across the campus. She'd break away from her friends, make her way over, plop down beside you on the grass, whip out her camera, and show you something she shot or filmed recently. Sam never seemed to feel like she was bothering you even though she was clearly interrupting you.

After she had finished her chattering, she would lean over, sometimes right into you, and ask about whichever text you had been looking at, or the assignment you were working on, or a personal research project you were doing. Then it was your turn to start babbling about all these grand old things, or your coursework, or a recent publication in a scientific journal, or something or another.

She would sometimes stop you, ask to record you (you forgot when it was that you started saying yes) and then you could go right on back to talking. She would say she’s practicing for her documentary interviews. You don’t think she ever really understands much, but sometimes she’d ask for clarification so at the very least you think she was trying, and sometimes just explaining a piece of history or two could be surprisingly insightful for yourself.

Sam made a great sounding board for some of your more convoluted theories. You come to enjoy your little brainstorming sessions, and since she keeps coming back, you think she probably likes them too. Eventually, Sam had even started carrying Jaffa Cakes on her, just so she could feed you when it’s obvious you haven’t taken a break in hours. She's surprisingly attentive.

Maybe she’d come back the next day or some time later, and suddenly be brimming with a dozen new questions about whatever it was you were last rambling on about. You suspect she’s reviewing her footage of you quite diligently. It’s a little embarrassing, how earnest she is. Though, sometimes, even _you_ look up some movie or show or piece of equipment that she’d been talking about. She’d talked your ear off about the difference between camera lenses for hours after you had asked offhandedly about tilt-shift lenses. Sam was incredibly pleased the first time it became obvious you were following up on your talks together.

Right now, Sam is going on about this aggravating malfunction in a production line that’s postponed the launch of a new series of cameras. She’s animatedly waving fries around to punctuate her point. You really have no idea what she’s saying. There’s a significant amount of technical jargon that’s still beyond you, despite how much she’s gone over it with you. Still, you offer appropriate reactions in the appropriate places in between bites of lunch.

“And so now my order’s been moved back to who knows when!” Sam jabs her fry in the air then promptly slumps. “The indignity of it all!”

“That’s a shame," you say.

“It is! I really hope it’s ready before the Ikebana exhibit closes in August. But somehow, I don’t think it will be.” Sam mopes.

“We can always go to some other exhibit when your camera arrives,” you suggest.

“No, we’re still going, I’m not rescheduling our date just because of some stupid problem with a finicky dial!”

You still don’t know how to feel about her calling your little outings together ‘dates’.

“You know what?” Sam says suddenly. “It’s probably not just a dial issue! People who tried the pre-production models said the booths weren’t set up to take proper low-light photos! _And_ they didn’t let anyone take the cameras outside. It’s seriously iffy, I bet the software itself is screwed up,” Sam whispers conspiratorially, more to herself than to you.

“So, that would explain why they haven’t put a new date for the launch?” you ask.

“It would. Ugh. But that’s all just speculation!” She waves her hand offhandedly and sighs. “Well, I’ve already picked out a different camera to take for the exhibit.”

“I thought the point of going together was to try out the new camera you would be getting?”

You really don’t mind rescheduling, it’s not like you can’t just go see the exhibits separately. And there’s bound to be plenty more exhibits in the near future that Sam will take you to when her camera finally comes in. It would be fine either way.

“It’s not like that's the _only_ reason we're going, Lara! Don’t you want to see that one exhibit too? The Chinese paintings? It’ll still be fun!”

“If you say so,” you acquiesce.

“I do say so!” She beams. “So don’t you dare cancel on me!”

“Okay, okay,” you say placatingly. “We’ll still go.”

“Good. You’re going to be free, right? You’ll finish your paper in time? Did that old guy you were talking about finally email you back?” She rights herself to properly eat her food. Her fries look a bit mushy though after that spiel.

“Yes, he did.” You sigh, and now _you_ slump into the chair. Just thinking about it gives you a headache. “I’ve been meaning to go over the photos he sent but they’re all illegible. How could one man be so bad at sending photos?”

He sent individual photos of the marked up pages of the book that you asked for, each one in a separate email. They’re all tiny and impossible to expand and in the most atrocious lighting.

“Are they blurry?” Sam asks. “Let me have a look, here log in.” She moves aside her lunch and pulls out her laptop.

“Believe me there’s nothing to look at.”  

You’re not really sure what she intends to look at. Regardless, you do as she asks. You punch in your login details, and point out the appropriate emails, trying not to lean too much into her space. You’ve sent a reply about the problem of being unable to read anything he’s sent, but you suspect the professor will take another week to reply. It took him long enough just to send these ones out.

She looks at the photos and nods. “I can fix this, no problem, I just need a day or two.” Sam clicks through the emails, marking them off and mailing them to herself.

You sit up a little straighter, surprised. “Oh, it’s not really important, I don’t want to get in the way of your coursework.”

“Wow, Lara, you really think something like this can get in my way?” She laughs, and elbows you. “Who do you think I am?”

“No, it’s not that, I just wouldn’t want to impose—”

“It’s not even that big of a deal. Friends help each other out sometimes, you know?” Sam says, logging out of your email. She's pulling up the blurry photos in some program.

“Thank you,” you manage to say after some time, before decisively closing the lid of her laptop, and pushing it aside.

“What! Hey!”

“We’re still eating,” you point out. “You don’t have to do it right now.” If Sam starts a project right now, you’re going to be having lunch with a brick wall.

Sam exaggeratedly rolls her eyes as she grabs at her burger. “Really, you underestimate me, Lara Croft! I can eat and work!” Sam says but she doesn’t make to grab her laptop again.

“I’d never underestimate you, Sam.”

 

* * *

 

Occasionally, you’d hear someone from across the yard yell, ‘Sam!’ the same excited way she would yell your name. Sometimes she looks mildly annoyed (mostly when she’s filming you) and she’d wave, yell a quick 'hey' in acknowledgement, and then ask you to keep going. Other times she’d apologize and dust herself off to join whoever called her over.

Once, she’d asked you to come with her to meet some of her friends. A pleasant enough bunch for the most part. Surprisingly tame compared to trouble maker Samantha Nishimura.

They shared a story about how Sam had gotten them kicked out of a bar once by doing...well. _Something_. Sam had shut them up with a pointed look before anyone could say how.

“Come on, tell me!” you insist after she waves the gang away.

“Lara.“ She puts a hand on your shoulder. She looks dead serious, which honestly just makes you laugh harder. “Some things are never meant to be said out loud.”

“Did you puke on someone?”

Sam makes a face.

“You puked on someone.”

Sam shoves you with a laugh. ”Give it up, Croft! I’m not telling.”

 

* * *

 

It’s something of an accident when she meets your friends.

You’re waiting for Roth in a restaurant with Alex and Kaz, when you see Sam walk in on the arm of one of her friends(?). You’ve already forgotten his name, but he sees you when you smile at him politely and tugs Sam in your direction. She lights up with a smile and comes your way.

Sam, Kaz, and Alex instantly bond over tech and classic films. Again, the conversation flies over your head. They chatter animatedly for a few minutes, while you and the guy(Aaron maybe?), listen mostly. You chance a peak and him and he looks positively enamored by her. You wonder what she sees in him.

You don’t think you’ll ask. You let them chatter, and you make the appropriate interjections now and then. Aaron too, seems in and out of the conversation, content to just listen. Thankfully it doesn’t go on for long. Sam eventually pulls him back to their table after excusing herself and exchanging some pleasantries. She is on a date after all. It wouldn’t do to waste her time with them.

Roth shows up barely minutes later not bothering to give an excuse for being late. He gives Sam a polite smile when their eyes meet from across the room.

“Friend of yours, Alex?” he asks as he sits. Evidently he’s seen Sam chatting with them.

“As of today, yes!” Alex grins proudly. “Where’d you find her, Lara? She’s kind of like not a part of your regular crowd.”

“She’s not really the archaeologist type…” Kaz muses. “She’s got a lot more in common with me than you. A shame she’s not single. How are you even friends with someone like that?”

“Neither of you are archaeologists and yet we’re still friends,” you say, slightly miffed.

It’s not that strange to be friends with someone like Sam. And even _if_ she were single...does Sam even like woman? Would Kaz be her type? Blonde, short, sexy, and outgoing. You have to wonder.

“You should be grateful we’re friends with you at all, you nerd,” Kaz says.  

“Rich coming from you,” you say.

“Is that the friend you’ve been telling me about?” Roth asks.

“Yes.”

“Hey, how come you told Roth, but never told us?” Alex asks, suspiciously.

“Trying to keep her for yourself?” Kaz asks.

“What? Of course not.”

“Now kids, get along,” Roth says. “Lara’s a grown woman now, not every single detail of her life needs to be shared with—”

“Super hot friends are important things to share with your friends!” Kaz insists.

“Yeah, Lara!” Alex adds unhelpfully.

They devolve into an argument, but Roth must think it’s not worth getting involved with again because he lets them be. He doesn't seem to give it a second thought, but after they go home that day, you can't help thinking back to it.

Why does Sam even hang around? She's so different from you. You know that you're quiet, and a bit shy, and a little obtuse sometimes and you never join her at the club when she insists, but everytime you want to go somewhere quiet she takes you without question. 

You don't get it.

 

* * *

 

Sam finds you one day, huddled in a corner of the library, surrounded by piles of books and paperwork.

“Lara! Hey!”

“Hey,” you say, sparing her a brief glance in acknowledgement.

You’re mildly peeved. You are in the middle of some very important research and she is incredibly set on interrupting you. Couldn’t she have just texted you? Maybe she has. You haven’t looked at your phone since you sat down. You don’t check it now either. Instead, you continue your reading, flipping another page. 

“What? Never thought you’d see me here, huh?” Sam asks. You can hear the pleased smile in her voice, like she knows exactly what you’re thinking.

It’s true. You hadn’t expected to find Sam here. She definitely wasn’t the library type. Not that the library had any particular type. You’ve seen all sorts of oddballs in the library. But not many people like Sam.

“You seemed like the type to Google everything,” you say carefully.

“Ha! Can’t find everything on Google!”

“And what exactly is it you’re looking for?” you ask, daring to glance at her.

“You.” She plops down in the chair beside you, beaming your way, smile as radiant as the sun, as if you haven’t been avoiding her lately.

“Well, you’ve found me.” You can’t help but smile back, lips twitching upwards just at the sight of her, bright and cheerful. Her smile is infectious, and you're embarassed once again so you turn back to your book, still smiling. “What can I help you with?”

“Mh. Do you want to get a flat with me?” Sam asks, without an ounce of hesitation.

You turn back and face her.

She’s looking at you expectantly. She’s trying to keep a neutral expression but you can see the subtle bounce of her knee; a sure sign of discomfort. Though, you don’t know if that’s because she has to sit still or if it’s because she’s just asked something quite incredible out of the blue.

You wonder if the offer had to do with the accidental visit she paid to the pub a few nights ago. You had never expected her to show up there of all places. It was a dingy pub for lazy old men. Not really the club kind of experience that Sam was typically into. Not to mention more than a little out of the way from the typical bars around campus. Unless she’s been banned from another bar. Recently, you’ve come to learn that it’s becoming something a regular thing for her.

Thinking back she had been just as surprised to see you. She probably didn’t expect you to be working nights at a pub of all places. But Sam had recovered quicker than you had when you'd seen her then. She had smiled wide, ordered a drink, and casually flirted with you pretending to be a gruff older man. Her impression had been abominable, so bad you nearly lost your composure a handful of times.

And yet that night had been almost awkwardly swept under the rug thereafter.

Sam is still waiting for you to respond. She’s fidgeting with her keyring now.

“Is there any particular reason for wanting me to move in?” you ask.

Neither of you had mentioned the unexpected encounter at the pub.  You were hiding the fact that you could barely afford school and Sam was downplaying her drinking habit it would seem.

“Well, I was thinking it’d probably be fun to have you as a roommate, you know?” Sam looks away and absentmindedly traces shapes with her keys on the grain of the wood table.

She must have a clue on how tight your money situation is, she’s quite sharp after all. But you much like living by yourself. You could focus on your work without distractions. And Sam was nothing but a distraction. Though, you suppose a distraction is necessary now and then, lest you work yourself into sickness again. But you’re also positive that there's no way you could stand living with anyone else. You're not sure anyone could stand living with you, either. Anyone outside of Roth, that is.

To live with Sam of all people...you can’t imagine how you could bear being in such close quarters with her. Lately you’ve barely been able to handle being near her at all. Ever since Aaron has entered and left the picture, you’ve been subtly avoiding her, and surely she has picked up on it.

But even then, she hasn’t stopped looking for you, calling you from across the campus, finding you in your hiding spots prepped with a cup of coffee and food, sending you encouraging and thoughtful messages, reminders to eat and sleep. Even though, you’ve been a jerk for what must seem like no reason to her, Sam continues to be sweet and thoughtful.

“I don’t think I’d be a very fun roommate,” you say and turn your attention back to your book to escape her eager stare.

“Oh come on, Lara! Let’s just like try it for like a few weeks or something. I found this great place, close to the campus, and I could use someone to...you know, live with. We could take care of each other!”

It’s hard to concentrate when she’s staring so hard at you. You squint harder at your book, though Sam stands out exceptionally in your peripheral.

“Moving in with someone is no small decision, Sam,” you eventually say. “I’ll think about it.”

“Well, whatever you decide, here.” Sam practically jumps out of her seat nearly knocking the chair over. She drops a key onto your book.

“I’ll text you directions!” Even though you don’t say yes, she doesn’t seem too disheartened. She nearly trips, rushing out of your little space.

“Visit whenever!” She yells from somewhere. There’s a chorus of shushing noises and then a much quieter, “sorry!”

Then she's gone, and you're stuck with a little silver key in the crease of your book.

**Author's Note:**

> How am I doing? What was it like reading in second person? Did it seem like it all made sense?  
> I don't typically write in 2nd person, so I'm definitely not used to it but for this story it just came naturally. 
> 
> If you notice some issues with tense, or other technical inconsistences then please feel free to mention it! If you want to do it discreetly, I also have my askbox open on Tumblr, find me there w/ this name! And thanks for reading!


End file.
